Out of Time
by DobbyLovesSocks
Summary: "Nice job, Reg. Maybe you're not such a pussy after all." And you aren't quite sure why, but this sends a blush up your neck and you grin shyly at the floor. By the time you look up, the boy and the book are both gone. /BartyReg, for Teddy


For First Aid (angst) on Camp Potter, using the prompts: _hourglass_, "_You never know what you have until it's gone"_, and _rain _

Also for dimitrisgirl18's Big/Lil' Sis Competition, using the prompts: Word: _wishes_, Word: _glass_, Quote: _"I am half agony, half hope." - Jane Austen_, Phrase: _knocked down_, Emotion: _disbelief_

Thanks so much to Roo (slightly small) for reading this over and helping me edit!

Dedicated to my amazing wife, Teddy for her birthday. Tedzer, you always know how to make me laugh and I always have fun talking about the most random things with you. I hope you have a fabulous birthday, and may all your dreams come trueee! (And may your laptop shine orange like orange stuff.)

*i*i*i*

* * *

"Regulus, we're short on time," he whispers. _"Go get the book."_ Hands trembling, you look around and dart into the restricted section of the library before grabbing the book and dashing out, pale face terrified.

"Why did I need to get that?" you whimper, looking up at the older boy.

"Reasons," he says coolly, turning away. "Nice job, Reg. Maybe you're not such a pussy after all."

And you aren't quite sure why, but this sends a blush up your neck and you grin shyly at the floor. By the time you look up, the boy and the book are both gone.

* * *

You're standing there in the pouring rain, shivering in your thin robes.

"W-what do you want, Barty?" you ask, trying to mask your fear with annoyance. "It's freezing out here, and if we're caught, we're in huge trouble." Barty laughs coldly, shaking his head.

"My fifth year, Regulus, and have I been caught yet? No. Because the good ones are never caught; you should realise this by now. The good ones aren't caught, but they're also the ones who would risk it, even if they might be caught. Grab the plant, Regulus. Don't be afraid." The last sentence sounds almost mocking, and you glower before yanking it out of its pot.

"Here. What do you need it for, anyway?" you ask. But when you turn to look at Barty, he's already running away with the plant in hand and without another look back. A minute later, you hear the door creak shut; you're out of time, yet again. Suddenly, you fall to the ground, knocked down by a sudden burst of wind. The rain begins to beat down harder, _harder_ as you struggle against the wind to reach a tree. You lean against the trunk and swear under your breath.

You wish the doors were unlocked, wish you could run back inside to the Slytherin dormitories instead of spending the night outside. You wish that for once, Barty would let you be more than just the little kid he drags along to do the dirty work so that you wouldn't be left behind every time to fend for yourself. The tree bark is rough against your skin, and you lie awake for hours. For a while, you think that dawn will never come.

* * *

It's your last year at Hogwarts, and you're struggling to make it through your second one without Barty. As much as Barty used you (and you know it's true), he had been one of the only friends you had. His adventures were the only things that kept you on your toes, and without them, life at Hogwarts is considerably more boring. One night, you sneak out of the dorm late at night and find your way to a tree by the lake, the place you met Barty. You lean against the tree, sighing, and close your eyes for a moment. When you open them, it's all you can do not to jump up and _scream_ as you see someone sitting next to you.

"Not a _word."_ Barty's eyes are wide and he looks just a little bit mad, but you almost don't care as you choke back your yell and throw your arms around his gaunt frame. Barty quickly shoves you off, looking surprised, and nods slightly. You draw back, embarrassed, and only then do you notice the slightly metallic smell coming off of Barty and the reddish brown stains on the edge of his shirt. Suddenly, the mad eyes register a bit more.

"I've missed you," he mumbles, and you nod, unsure of whether to be afraid or amazed or just shocked. For a moment, you stare at him in disbelief, wondering how he managed to get in, or _why,_ or if he misses you as much as you miss him. You don't say any of this.

"What- what's happened to you?" you ask instead, wondering whether you really want to hear the answer.

"The Dark Lord, Reg," he whispers, and the reverence in his voice makes you uncomfortable. "He's... he's terrible. Amazing. He'll do anything without a second thought, or send one of us to do it for him." He holds out his arm toward you, showing you a skull emblazoned on his forearm. Just looking at it makes you feel sick. But the look on his face is so _happy,_ the sick, twisted smile so wide, that you almost don't care because it makes him happy, and that's what you want, isn't it?

"What have you been doing?"

"Everything," he responds, throwing his hands in the air. "Anything the Dark Lord asks of me." He pauses for a moment, as if wondering whether to say any more, and seems to decide against it. You almost ask about the stains on his shirt, but you don't think you want to know. So instead, you just watch him; half of you in agonising pain to see him so twisted, half of you hopeful that you can see him again, and life after Hogwarts will be spent on more adventures with Barty.

"I've missed you, too," you tell him, only minutes too late. And it's true. You miss chasing after him on crazy hunts to find things you would never understand, you miss always running out of time and being left behind because his legs were longer.

"Keep this," he whispers, pressing something into your hand. Looking down, you see that it's a piece of glass with words painted on in gold. The glass reflects the last of the setting sun, and you take in a breath.

"What is it?" you ask, but he purses his lips and shakes his head, because at heart, this is the Barty you always knew, hidden beneath layers of stolen innocence.

"Can't say," he tells you, and you think that he _enjoys_ holding this over you, having another secret and this time, a reason to keep it. "Just keep it safe. Please." And you see the pleading in his eyes so you nod, and, almost without realising you're doing it, you lay a hand on his knee. He flinches. He doesn't move back.

"You'll join him next year." His low voice is right in your ear, and you can feel his breath against your skin. "It'll be just like old times." And for a minute, you think it already is until suddenly his lips are on yours and he's kissing you fervently, and your breath hitches in your throat before you're kissing him back, his lips warm and rough against yours. He kisses you harder, his breathing ragged and harsh, before he finally lets you go and takes a shuddering breath. Before you can manage a coherent thought, he's running away as fast as he can as though his life depends on it, leaving you with just a broken piece of glass.

Things really haven't changed since he's been gone; you're still the little boy who does the dirty work without complaint, and the hourglass still runs out just minutes too soon. But just like it used to be, you still don't mind living in the shadow of someone more powerful... After all, that's how you grew up. Until Barty was gone, you hadn't realised how much you missed him, how much of your live revolved around him.

"You never know what you have until it's gone," you whisper to yourself, and you wonder what you'll do when he really is gone, when the hourglass that times your adventure finally runs out. Forever.

The kiss lingers on your lips for days.


End file.
